I am assisting Mr. Bilderberg on his Aegis Destroyer, located in the Bering Sea, near one of BP Amaco’s deep water rigs. We’ve had a team of Price Waterhouse partners on board with us, outlining the accountancy of the world banking crisis. You will be happy to know, the blues and twos will soon be escorting most of them into bankruptcy protection, as their current accounts run dry.

Bish bash bosh, I’ve led you to water, letting you Americans in the building society know that you may end up in the back of a jam sandwich sooner than you think, instead of playing with concrete and secateurs. Bloody hell, instead of reading the bumf for which you call newspapers, use it for a bog roll.

Just today, Mr. Bilderberg was discussing the next round of corrective measures, and I quote: “Shake that can of coke with the utmost vigour Rag, then open it in his face”.

Bog standard, he made me do that to Henry Paulson, who was working with the turf accountants, trying to figure out how to save the nuclear arsenal from being sold on the black market.

Bloody hell, I have all but one thing for you to understand and learn about. Listen to me very quietly, as if your head were stuck in a trombone: sell short all available shares of [[MER]], as if a drunken monkey were chasing you down an alley thinking your John Thomas was in fact a banana.

Good Day,

Rag